


Forget-Me-Not

by The_Iceberg_Lounge



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Depression, Fluff, M/M, cursing, more of "mentions" of Stephanie Brown, on second though lots of angst, post breakup, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-08 21:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12262698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Iceberg_Lounge/pseuds/The_Iceberg_Lounge
Summary: Days after breaking up with Jason, Tim finds himself heartbroken and exhausted. A sleep deprived night leads to Tim finding himself in Jason’s bed once again. Jason remains uncertain and is still afraid of falling in love. But Tim’s determined to salvage their relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I’m Honey, and this is my first public JayTim fanfiction! I wrote this as a means of breaking my writer’s block and hope that you can enjoy this!

When Tim returned home from his night clearing Gotham’s streets from the evil that seemed to roll in with the fog, he was so utterly exhausted. Having been up for a total of 122 hours straight, it was only natural that he’d be dying from the deprivation of dreaming.

His ribs were bruised and he was sporting a new busted lip. But Tim was too tired to ice himself down or clean the dry blood on his chin before bed. He snuck into the small apartment through the living room window, flurries of snow from outside following behind him as he let himself in. Said room looked as if a tornado had swept through it, the neatest aspect of the humble abode being an acute stack of papers left in mint condition on the coffee table. Tim was far too tired to realize that he never left a stack of papers there. He quickly disassembled his suit, folding each article over the couch before trudging over to his bedroom in just his boxers and a red hoodie he'd found in the hall on how way. Dragging his feet and hanging his arms low with each resentful step.

This had the be one of the longest periods of time Tim had gone without a wink of sleep. If it wasn’t the longest amount of time, the runner-up would have had to be the week that followed his and Stephanie’s terrible breakup. It made him afraid of falling asleep, afraid of seeing her face behind his eyes and facing that sort of rejection a second time. This time around though, he'd already faced his second breakup, the second one worse than the last.

Yawning silently, Tim rolled into his respectful side of the bed, passing out nearly the second his head hit the pillow. He slept like a rock, never moving from his fetal position throughout the entire night as he enjoyed dreams of seeing old friends and awkward escalator situations. There was also Stephanie, seeing her didn't hurt as much anymore. But there was also Jason... The sight of him stung more than Tim was prepared for, the pangs in his chest worsening. He wanted to wake up. He couldn't.

It was only the next morning that Tim had realized this wasn’t his apartment; there was an arm draped around his waist; there was a warm wisp of breath brushing the baby hairs against the back of his neck. Quite frankly, Tim was freaked out over how he didn’t notice it before. Having been so tired, Tim went home to his ex-boyfriend… Jason Todd. Memories of him welled in Tim’s stomach, butterflies flapping unsurely in a way that sent tears to his parched eyes. He didn't know if he was crying over the memory of the breakup, the embarrassment of falling asleep next to his ex, or because he was happy to be in Jason's embrace again.

They broke up a few days ago, hence Tim’s fear of falling asleep. Jason had broken things off, stating that Tim was still too in love with Stephanie for his comfort. And while Tim knew it was a bullshit excuse, he understood why Jason had to get as emotionally far away from Tim as possible, for fear of being; falling in love with Tim. It was just how Jason was. He sat in this unmoving universe, perpetually disappointed by the people he fell in love with.

Bruce; the father figure Jason had only dreamed of having – left him to die at the hands of a sadistic clown deprived of all human rationality and compassion.

Bizarro; an unlikely friend that stole Jason’s heart from the second the big guy first smiled Jason's way. Dead. With no goodbye.

There were more, of course, but Tim decided to stop thinking about the list, having enough evidence from just the two examples to understand why Jason was afraid of getting too close again. Everyone always left after he grew emotionally attached, so he tended to disregard close relationships involving him getting hurt once they let him down. Tim understood; gave Jason his space, and fully believed that Jason would come around once Tim was able to prove that he’d never leave Jason until the bitter end. No matter how dramatic that sounded.

Tim couldn’t bring himself to get up. His muscles burned in protest to every movement he made. Tim tried to focus on anything but the breath sending shivers along his spine. This was wrong. He shouldn’t be here, not with Jason, not while Jason was still unsure… Especially not the way they're snuggled against one another as if they hadn’t just broken up days ago. As Tim thought about the night before, he found that he couldn’t remember much. He was on patrol, sure, that much was obvious. A bunch of drug smuggling thugs in an alleyway. An ambush. Teeth. A scream. And then nothing. The memory rushed to his head and made his temples pulsate. Jason shifted behind him, making the memory flutter to the back of his thoughts where they continued to pester lightly against the other thoughts that Tim obsessed over.

There was a moment of silence. Tim froze up. He prayed to any higher being for Jason not to wake up before he had the chance to flutter away like a ghost into the early morning grey. But satan decided to humour himself; Jason stirred; stirred; stirred; awoke.

Tim willed his body to still and relax as one would do if they were still asleep. Jason’s arm stiffened around Tim’s waste as if he was contemplating removal. He didn’t. Either out of fear of waking Tim up or because he simply didn’t wish to remove the contact. The answer, Tim didn’t know. Not knowing unsettled him and Tim found himself stiffening uncomfortably, against his will.

“I know you’re awake,” Jason said finally. Tim stiffened some more, not wanting to move.

“Yeah…” Tim breathed. “I’m awake.” Both of their voices were deep as morning poems.

“I’d ask why you’re in my bed, but then I’d have to explain why I never asked you to leave.” His voice was a whisper, light as the fog that brushed against the windows outside. The hush sent goosebumps dancing across Tim’s pale skin, clothed back still pressed against Jason’s bare chest. It gave him a sense of safety that he hadn’t had in a while. It was nice.

“Timmy?” Jason’s concerned voice broke Tim out of his bubble -fabricated out of old memories-. It took Tim a while to realize that he was holding his breath and not giving Jason an answer.

“Sorry…” Tim whispered back. “I was too tired to realize where I was last night,” Tim confessed, feeling the blush of embarrassment across his neck and warming a rosy pink colour over his ears.

Behind him, Jason snorted. What caught Tim off guard after that was how Jason nuzzled into the back of Tim’s neck, sighing as if he’d just discovered water. Tim’s hair is almost too long with a silky feel consistent throughout every lazy curl. It’s the beautiful and ominous colour of a starless night.

“Jason?” Tim’s breath caught in his throat and his voice would have cracked if it not had been for the whispering. Jason hummed against his skin.

It was too familiar. From the curling of his toes whenever Jason’s hot breath tickled his neck, to the skipped beats his heart struggled to make up for. Familiar and wrong and yet Tim was so in love with it. He was in love with the love that lingering in his chest, for the huge gaping part of his heart, left for Jason. A spark. Tim would describe the sensation as a spark. An amber waiting to be blown into a flame.

“I’m in love with you, Jason.” Tim finally said. It was louder than the whispering he’d previously done. The words were rushed because when Tim had thought to say them, they had come to his lips like electricity, with that need to say them or else he’d miss his chance and he’d regret it for the rest of his life. It might have been the poetry in his sleepy heart speaking, but it was what he said. Tim started to regret it what Jason started laughing lazily behind him.

“Why are you laughing?” Tim asked. The hurt in his throat making the last word come out in an almost whining tone. It made Tim sick and embarrassed.

“Because. I don’t believe in love.” Jason finally said. He might not anymore, but Tim knew that he had once before. And he can again.

“No,” Tim said firmly, rolling to face Jason despite the aching muscles that protested like static against Tim’s skin. He suppressed a pained groan as he continued. “I won’t accept that. Life is too cruel, so if we don’t have love then what is the point in living? You were laughing, if not because you agree, then why?” Sure he was dramatic, but it was early and he was in love. What better time to be dramatic?

“Because you’re beautiful and should go back to sleep.” Jason’s voice is softer, his hand leaving Tim’s hip to brush a raven curl from Tim’s face. Jason didn’t need to say it. The glassy film over his eyes said it all. The quiver in his lip was like poetry writing itself in Tim’s eyes and not a word had to be spoken, nor read, nor written.

Tim wanted that very much. To fall back asleep in the arms of the man who was afraid of being uncertain. Afraid of being in love and being let down and being broken. At least in sleep, Jason didn’t have to worry about a reality where Tim would leave him.

The kiss Tim insisted against Jason’s lips was an ode to the Shakespearean poetry within them. Tim wanted to taste the artistry in Jason’s bottom lip and the poison on his tongue. Except, Tim would not play Romeo in this scene and Jason would not perish as Juliet once had. Instead, they would stay alive and resist whatever efforts their doubts made to separate them. Jason kissed Tim back just as eagerly, tasting the blood of Tim’s busted lip. They shouldn’t be doing this, Jason realized. But it only made him more certain of the feel in his chest. The feeling he feared with all of his heart. God damn it, why did Tim have to do this to him? Why couldn’t the universe just let him be miserable and alone?

When their lips parted, Jason’s gaze ran up Tim’s parted lips and suddenly found the boy’s eyes. He found paradise within them. So beautifully blue. Almost sickeningly blue - full-on Prince Charming, a field of Forget-Me-Nots, perfect, an ocean of equanimity blue. Someone should name a crayon after the guy.

“Because I love you too, baby bird.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was late November, the days spilling into December, and Gotham wore a fresh coat of snow as Tim sat wordlessly at the kitchen’s island counter. He was hunched over the wooden stool he sat at, stirring the cup of steaming coffee before him with a silver spoon. The counter was a pretty white marble that had obviously been cleaned recently.

Trying to recollect the night, Tim impatiently tapped his fingers against his mug. He remembered crawling into an empty bed last night. How Jason could have silently joined him without much thought astounded the raven-haired boy. Tim was still wearing nothing but boxers and what he’d identified as Jason’s hoodie. He was waiting. Waiting for Jason to finally get out of the shower and confront Tim about what had just happened moments ago. It must have been an hour ago at the least.

Anxious. Constantly and perpetually anxious. Tim chewed on his bottom lip, briefly neglecting his mug of coffee before finally bringing the porcelain to his lips and sipping softly. It was bitter, leaving remorse heavy in his chest.

A bad dream. He wanted so badly for this to just be another bad dream.

As much as Tim wanted to get back together with Jason, he wanted nothing to do with pressuring the decision into his palm. This was Jason’s internal battle and Tim had no right messing with his head the way he did back there with that kiss and not leaving as soon as his mistake was realized. Letting his foolish emotions get in the way of his better judgement was one rookie mistake he promised he’d never make again.

But what happened back there… _“I don’t believe in love.” And he laughed. The words were a cruel joke rolling off of the end of his tongue._ The words sat in his stomach and he suddenly found his cup of coffee unappetising. It didn’t make sense. How could he not believe in love and then change his mind out of the blue?

With his face buried in his hands, Tim tried to make sense of this. Tried to make sense of Jason’s insecurities. Hormones, he thought. A hormone induced lie inspired by the heated kiss Tim insisted onto the man’s lips. He felt so goddamn sick and dirty, forcing his depression and desperate puppy love onto Jason like that. With Jason still so unsure, it made Tim feel like a criminal. He was greedy and selfish- and what’s worse: he’d do anything for another kiss like that.

 _“I don’t believe in love.” And he laughed. He fucking laughed because it was a joke, the funniest joke and Tim was the goddamn punchline._ The pain was prominent on Tim’s skin, like red-hot iron branding Jason’s rejection into his throat. It was worse than Tim thought it was. It wasn’t that Jason was afraid of being in love and just needed to be coaxed into getting over that hurdle, but Jason didn’t believe in love.

 _“Because I love you too, baby bird.” Jason’s voice was broken when he said it. A dead give away that he was hormonal and lying. Jason was always a terrible liar. At least around Tim. Tim’s ominous presence could do that to him._ He was lying. Jason didn’t love Tim. And now Tim was stuck with a million dollar question. Was he really even in love with Jason, or was Jason just his distraction for getting over Stephanie?

Tim didn’t sit on the question for too long, didn’t have time because when Jason stepped out of the bathroom, the question was just beginning to form. “You still there, Timmy?” Jason asked, sticking his head around the corner to get a view of Tim hunched over in the kitchen. There was a smile on his lips that Tim didn’t catch. Tim didn’t want to turn around to face him. Was too hurt to face him; was too sore to face him; was too close to tears he wasn’t aware he had left to shed.

“Yeah.” Tim croaked, reviving his pursed lips to drink. He felt the sickness in his stomach, but drank, not wanting to appear as if Jason was getting to him. Even though Jason had gotten to him long ago. “You wanted to talk.” Tim reminded.

Jason made a noise in agreement and then shuffled back into the hallway before reappearing in sweatpants and nothing else. “Yeah, I did.” It was a hushed mumble, but Tim had caught it through the way of some higher power. “But first, take off the hoodie.” It was an order. Tim spun around in the stool to glare but immediately regretted the sharp movement when pain punched him between the ribs; stealing Tim of his breath and his confident stature. His mask had fallen and Tim hoped that the pained expression knitting his brows was enough to convince Jason that the redness in his eyes was because of the bruises along his ribs and not because of this morning’s lies.

“What?” Tim spat, trying to make it look at if his ribs didn’t still hurt.

“Hoodie. Off. Don’t make me ask a third time Tim.” Not that he’d asked the first time or the second time. Jason approached Tim and helped him out of his red hoodie. “You were reckless last night,” Jason added. How Jason could have known that was a mystery, neatly tied in a bow; tempting Tim’s fingers. He wanted to know. Wanted to know even more so when Jason strategically avoided touching Tim’s bare skin when he’s helped take off the hood. “You’re never that reckless.” Jason graced Tim’s bruises, dark and throbbing, in contrast, the almost snow white of Tim’s skin. “So what’s wrong?”

As if he didn’t already know the answer. It made Tim scoff and kiss his teeth. “As if you don’t know.”

“I don’t.” Jason hummed. Tim snorted at that. How could Jason not have known? As if he was that clueless, it had to be a joke. And Tim was getting tired of being the butt of everyone’s jokes lately. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are. That’s what makes it funny, that you really don’t know.” Jason tried to run his fingers along Tim’s bruises to get a feel for how bad they were; if they hurt as bad as they looked. Tim’s startled yelp was enough to give Jason the answer he was looking for.

“What don’t I know?” Jason asked, his voice dismissive as if he was asking out of politeness rather than genuine interest. And now it was Tim’s turn to laugh. But it didn’t feel as fulfilling as he thought it would.

“That this is your fault.” The words flew out of Tim’s mouth before he had time to refine them.

“My fault?” Jason’s gaze snapped up to meet Tim’s. “How is this my fault?”

“Because you hurt me, Jason! More than the sleep deprivation, more than the punches or the blows to the head-”

“You did this to yourself?” Jason cut in. His tone seemed mocking to Tim, but it was purely concern for the younger male. "Are you really that stupid, Tim? That you'd put yourself in danger becau-"

“No!” And then Tim thought about it. Tim was the kind of person to work himself until it didn’t hurt anymore. With his eyes closed, his brain could remind him of whatever it wanted, no matter how painful the memory. He made sure he couldn’t sleep, deprived him or anything and everything that mattered. He took on suicide missions just to see what could possibly hurt more than Jason. And Jason didn’t even have to fucking touch Tim to cut him deeper than any blade ever had. In a way, Tim did do this on purpose. “Maybe… Maybe I took you too seriously; maybe it was me… Maybe I felt more than I should have.”

“Tim…” There was that mocking concern again.

“Don’t act like you care. It’s insulting.” Tim hissed, one part because of the pain and two parts because Jason’s worry really did hurt. Made Tim feel like a stupid kid with a kindergarten crush.

Jason wanted to rebuttal Tim’s statement but decided against it when realizing that he’d make it worse by doing so. Jason finally left to grab some ice on the other side of the island counter, leaving Tim to the buzzing that sat in his head.

Flurries of snow caught the breeze outside and vanished into the morning. The snow refused to stick to the ground, leaving nothing but puddles and slush in their wake.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Tim…” Jason finally said, holding ice in a plastic bag. “I didn’t think you really liked me.” A confession. A true, sincere confession and it felt like this was the first time he’d been telling the truth.

“You-” There was a long time before Tim could bring himself to say more. “Jason, I loved you...“ His words came out more defensively than Tim had intended.

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m having a hard time believing you.” Jason was just as defensive and it put Tim on edge.

“You thought I was lying?”

“It was just for kicks, Tim!” Jason snapped. And damn it all to hell if Tim hadn’t thought that it could hurt any worse than this.

“Just for kicks?”

“It didn’t mean anything!” It was almost a question, as Jason was trying to bring himself to believe it too.

“You told me you loved me!” It was a wail. Much louder than Jason’s snaps and both briefly worried that the neighbours could hear. Hot tears stung Tim’s parched eyes, wetting his cheeks, reddened with fury. “I believed you! I fucking believed you, like some idiot! Like some goddamn idiot, Jason!” The coffee mug shattered in Tim’s tight grasp, a mess of coffee and glass spilling on the counter making Jason gasp ever so slightly. It could have been mistaken for the sound of snow falling outside, but Tim knew.

“Shit.” Jason cursed under his breath, rushing for the rag by the sink to clean up the mess. Tim had finally come back from his state of rage, coffee spilling into his lap and he reaches for the rag in Jason’s hand. “Don’t!” Jason hissed. “You’ve fucking done enough.”

The muscle in Tim’s throat clenched and gave him a sore feeling that made speaking impossible. As Jason cleaned up the mess, Tim could do nothing but sit there and feel sorry for himself. The rag was finally handed to Tim to clean the mess on his thighs after Jason had thrown the glass away.

“I-” There was a short pause as Tim conjured the courage to speak. He cleaned the coffee off of his thighs over the duration of the pause. “I should leave,” Jason said nothing, wordlessly taking the rag back from Tim and replacing it with the bag of ice.

“Like hell you are.” Jason huffed. But in spite of Jason’s irritated tone, his expression was still full of worry for the ravenette. Confusion sat in Tim’s head at how quickly Jason had gone from angry to concern again.

“What?”

“The snow storm’s picking up outside, you have no pants, and you’re in no shape to be walking any long distances.” Tim’s stomach stirred at how right Jason was. He nodded in submission, knowing there was no arguing with Jason at this state. “I’ll go get you some pants. Go lie on the couch with your ice.” Jason ordered, leaving prominently afterwards. Tim wordlessly did as he was told and moved into the living room, throwing himself into the cushions. Aching in his ribs made him groan and shift for a comfortable position.

Tim stared up at the ceiling, the ice pack pressed to his colourful skin. He stared and rapidly swashed his head from side to side to watch the pain blur into swirls of grey right in front of him, spinning like a single-coloured rainbow around his irises.

When Jason had returned, it was with pants as promised. Some of Tim’s old plaid pyjamas that he’d left here weeks ago. There was a ghost of a smile that faded as soon as it had graced Tim’s lips. He remembered when he’d left that here. It was the first night he’d realized how much he really liked Jason. Tim was tutoring Jason in Calculus; expecting to stay the night, he brought along some comfortable pants to sleep in. It was also the night of their first kiss -- when Tim had learned in first and Jason met him halfway. _“Okay… maybe this is more than ‘just friends’.” Jason was the first to admit it but he wasn’t the first to think it._

Tim managed to get himself into the outrageously plaid pants. They were baggy around his legs and were an ugly yellow colour. Tim vaguely remembers receiving them as a Hanukkah present.

"I thought I was just your rebound." It was sudden and Jason's voice was a whisper, breaking the silence. He slowly moved to sit beside Tim, an ocean of space between them on the leather couch. Tim looks at Jason like he’s just said the ugliest thing known to mankind. It caught the both of them off guard.

"You were wrong-" Jason cut Tim's words in half before he had a chance to finish them.

"I know that now..." Remorse. The strangled tone in his voice was remorse.

"You weren't yourself without Stephanie, she made you a better person. And I guess-... I saw the way you looked at her and I guess thought there was some chance you could look at me the same way..." Vulnerability. It wasn't just anybody who could get Jason vulnerable like this.

"Jay-" Cut off again.

"And when you did, Tim, it scared the hell out of me," Jason confessed. His eyes were closed and he was trying to imagine that Tim wasn't there because this wasn't easy.

"Because you don't love me back." Tim finished. It was more of a question than a statement, but Jason got the idea. Jason's eyes went wide and there was a sharp pain in his throat. Did Tim really believe that?

"No! God, Tim, no!" Now, Jason would do anything to get Tim to believe the opposite. He was just so bad at being vulnerable and honest. It wasn't something he was used to.

"You're not making any sense, Jason. You tell me you love me and it sounds like a lie, and then you tell me we were just for kicks! Make up your mind, Jason, what are we?" Tim was anxious now, and when he was anxious, his voice rose to the occasion.

"I don't know! I wish I did, and I hate myself for not knowing! We started out as kicks... and then you felt too much and I felt too much and-..." a pause. It was only for a few seconds but it felt like hours. "I guess that scared me."

"You guess?"

"I'm trying."

"Not hard enough."

"I’m not good at this! Tim, I'm not." Jason was closer now, trying to get rid of the ocean between them, hoping to get close enough for Tim to see.

"Yeah, I can see that."

"Okay, I get it. You're angry. You should be." It hurt. God, why did this hurt?

"You told me you-"

"I needed time, I know... I just needed time."

"For?"

”To figure things out, Tim. It's been a long time since I've felt this way, I don't know how this works..."

Tim put some more of that ocean between them, scooting farther away in spite of the burning sensation along his ribs. Jason got the idea and moved away too. There was another long silence that felt like hours. In reality, it was two whole minutes.

Pain.

The kind you can’t suffer quietly.


End file.
